


Tarts Aren't As Easy As They Sound

by deekee



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Bond tries baking, M/M, he isn't very good, recipes aren't always right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1683419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deekee/pseuds/deekee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q comes home to find a surprise in his kitchen. What on Earth is Bond doing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tarts Aren't As Easy As They Sound

**Author's Note:**

> So I was feeling kind of stressed, and the fandom has been a little quiet lately, so I decided to try this out. I hope that you like it :)

“Bond. What have you done to my kitchen?”

 

The agent winced and slowly turned around to face the young man staring at him from the doorway. “Nothing?”

 

Q raised an eyebrow, “Really? That’s the best that you can do? Nothing. Don’t you lie for a living?”

 

Bond shuffled slightly, “Well it’s not like you ever believe me when I lie, anyway.”

 

“Just tell me what on earth you’ve done to my kitchen.” Q blinked. “In fact, what are you doing in my flat at all?”

 

“I just…” he coughed. “Wanted to… surprise you…”

 

“Well you’ve certainly achieved that much. Now, what are you doing in my kitchen, specifically? And – what is that smell?”

 

“Shit!” Bond spun around, remembering what he’d been doing in the first place. Well, trying to do, at any rate. From the look of the pot, he hadn’t succeeded. 

 

“Is that caramel?” asked Q from over his shoulder. “Why is it hardened to the bottom of my pot?”

 

“Well it wasn’t exactly supposed to be solid!” sniped Bond in annoyance. He looked at the perfectly bubbling pot of milk and at the nicely browned pastry cooling on the counter to his left, and rubbed his temple, trying to figure out what to do. 

 

Q cocked his head to the side, “What was it meant to be?”

 

“Liquid, of course!” he growled in reply. “What else?”

 

“Ah,” Q nodded. “To be added to the milk I presume?”

 

Bond turned to him, “Yes… how did you..?”

 

Q stretched around him to turn on the sink, letting it fill with hot water. “Here, pass me the pot, would you?” 

 

Bond did so, and curiously watched his Quartermaster tap the solid caramel with a wooden spoon before setting it inside the sink. The young man then allowed some of the hot water into the pot before turning the tap off. Bond looked over his cardigan-covered shoulder to watch him slowly start stirring the water in th pot.

 

Soon enough, the caramel started melting and mixing with the water, to form a liquid once more. After another few minutes, Q said to him, “Pour the milk in now.”  
Bond frowned, “But the recipe said to cool the caramel down in cold water and then pour it into the milk.”

 

Q snorted, “That just leaves you with solid caramel, idiot. Besides,” he looked at Bond with a smirk, “since when do you look up baking recipes?”

 

Bond just shrugged noncommittally and grabbed the pot of boiling milk, and slowly poured it into the caramel, as per Q’s instructions. It certainly felt strange, and oddly domestic, to be baking with his Quartermaster. 

 

“Alright, now grab the pastry crust, still in the mold mind!” Bond did as instructed, and together they poured the thick mixture in, and popped it in the oven. 

 

Leaning against the counter, Q crossed his arms and stared at Bond. “Ready to tell me why you were attempting to bake a caramel tart in my kitchen? Because I never took you for a sweet-tooth.” 

 

“No, but you are…” Bond replied quietly, stared at the tart cooking in the oven. 

 

“Pardon?” he could hear the disbelief in the young mans voice.

 

Bond sighed, “Everyone knows that you love sugar, and desserts, and cream. I figured that the best way to get you to go on a date with me would be to bake you something to soften you up first.”

 

“You thought that you had to bake for me, to get me to go out with you? Seriously?”

 

“Well, you just ignore my flirting, and shoot me down whenever I bring up dinner… What else was I to try?” he looked over at the Quartermaster.

 

Q was just staring at him with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “I thought that you were taking the piss…”

 

Bond smiled, “And now that you know that I’m not?”

 

“We can fuck?”

 

Bond started, and then burst out in laughter. “If you want, but I was intending on wining and dining you… starting with this tart, unless you want it to burn?”

 

Q grinned, “Fuck it, I hate caramel. Sex it is!” The young man turned and headed towards the bedroom, and Bond had nothing else to do but switch the oven off and follow.


End file.
